Drex rolled his head to the side to look at Gif. “You think she’s pretty? And enchanting? Why don’t you go back to Lexington? When’s the last time you got laid? Oh, no, wait. You’ve been too busy keeping tabs on my sex life to have one of your own.”

“Don’t do that. Don’t try to turn the tables here. Mike and I have stuck our necks out for you—”

“You can quit at any time.”

“That’s it on a nail’s head, Drex.” The uncharacteristic volume of his voice was indication of his anger. “We don’t want to quit. We’re all in. We made our choices, and they’ve cost us huge. But now, when we’re close to a payoff, it could all go to hell because of your hard-on for the suspect’s wife.”

“We don’t know that she’s complicit.”

“We don’t know that she isn’t.”

Although he knew Gif was right, it was infuriating to be scolded like a kid caught with his hand inside his pants. “You can relax. Nothing has happened.” Gif didn’t back down. Hell, for all Drex knew, Gif had been standing within a yard of them when he’d kissed Talia. He amended his denial, muttering, “Nothing much.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Gif said. “If you only want something to happen, you’re compromised.”

“Hell I am. There’s a gulf of difference between thinking on something and acting on it.”

“Your dinner date—”

“Was an attempt to learn more about her. Is she friend or foe? Guilty as hell or pure as the driven snow? Would she be appalled to learn of her husband’s crimes, or did she snicker from the sidelines while he was nailing shut that box on Marian Harris? I’ve asked myself those questions a thousand times.”

“Mike and I get that.”

“Then why’d you hustle down here to check on me?”

“To make certain that you hadn’t lost perspective.”

“I haven’t.”

“No?”

“No.”

Gif looked at him and said nothing for a time, then, “What were you two talking about while hiding behind the ficus trees?”

“If you were able to see us, we weren’t hiding, were we? But, as to what we were talking about, I tried to get out of her why she was upset.”

“And?”

“Something female.”

“Oh. That narrows it down to about a million different things. Could you be more specific?”

“I tried. She wasn’t having it.” Losing patience with the inquisition, he said, “Anything else? Did you save the best for last?”

“In fact I did.” Gif’s eyes narrowed a fraction. “I have to ask. What was predominantly on your mind when you whisked her out of the coffee shop? Were you trying to determine if she’s Ford’s accomplice, or were you wishing she wasn’t his wife?”

Damn him. Leave it to Gif to strike straight to the heart of the matter. It was a question Drex dared not answer. He didn’t know how he would answer even if he were inclined to. Gif was right: His attraction to Talia was a hazard. But knowing that didn’t stop him from wanting her. His better judgment, integrity, and resolve were tested every time he got near her.

However, he wasn’t going to discuss this personal conflict with Gif. It was his problem to solve, and he would work through it alone, without Mike’s bullying or Gif’s counsel.

He said, “Earlier, you mentioned a blood oath. Have you ever taken one?”

Gif shook his head.

“Well, I have.” He thrust his arm across the console and held his hand palm up where Gif could see the thin scar that spanned it.

“I swore to my dad that I would get the son of a bitch who stole my mother from him and then killed her. He never recovered. He’d been dead on the inside for decades before he took his final breath.” He stabbed the console with his index finger. “I will—I am—going to get the fucker responsible for their mutual destruction.”

“No matter if—”

Drex cut him off. “I’ve said it, Gif. I’ve sworn it. No more questions.”

Chapter 15

Elaine bobbed her head to the waiter in thanks for the cosmopolitan he set in front of her, then smiled at her companion, who was seated opposite her at the low, round cocktail table. “I’m glad you called.”

Jasper said, “I felt terrible about missing last night’s dinner. I know how much you had looked forward to it.”

“It wasn’t the same without you.”

“Come now.”

She giggled. “It was a lovely evening, but you were missed.”

“Thank you.” He raised his bourbon highball to her, then took a sip. “Since I couldn’t make lunch today, either, I didn’t want you to think I was avoiding you.”

“It never occurred to me to think that. The important thing is that you’re feeling better. Was it ghastly?”

“I’ll be avoiding oysters for a while.”

“Poor baby.” She sipped from her martini glass. “What’s Talia up to this afternoon?”

“Absolutely nothing. She had an appointment earlier today. When she got home, she excused herself and went upstairs to take a nap.”

“Was she all right?”

He leaned forward and whispered, “I think she might be a bit hung over from last night.”

Elaine grinned knowingly. “It wouldn’t surprise me. She’s not a heavy drinker, or as conditioned as I am. We killed two bottles of wine over dinner, and, before that, Drex gave her a generous pour on a vodka martini.”

Jasper’s teeth clenched, but he smiled. “Drex was tending bar?”

“I hosted a happy hour.”

“I thought Drex was going to meet you and Talia at the restaurant.”

“That was the original plan, but he called and asked if he could come a bit early and bring his manuscript.”

“Whatever for?”

“He left it with me to read. Talia didn’t tell you?”

“We didn’t talk much after she came in. I was up, but still queasy. She shooed me back to bed and slept in the guest room in case I had a virus and not food poisoning.” He took unnecessary care readjusting the coaster under his glass. “Odd that Drex asked you to read his book. He’s been so protective of it.”

“I was flabbergasted! Delighted, but flabbergasted. I’m hardly qualified to critique it.”

“I’m sure he asked because you showed such interest in the subject matter and writing process.”

“I guess. But if he asked anyone among us to take a look at it, I’d have thought it would be Talia.”

He sipped his bourbon, then asked with nonchalance, “Why’s that?”

“She’s so much brainier. I’m not the intellectual that she is.”

He tsked. “You don’t give yourself enough credit. Besides, I doubt Drex’s novel is that complex and literary.”

“Between you and me, it isn’t. I read a few chapters before going to sleep last night, and a few more over my morning coffee. I’m surprised that it isn’t…hmm…what’s the word? Heftier?”